


The Most Real You

by Kaitecha



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Dissociation, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foreplay, Grinding, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Neck Kissing, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaitecha/pseuds/Kaitecha
Summary: Oikawa is elated that Iwaizumi is coming to visit his university. Elated. Insecure. Still expecting the world to need a machine.
Iwaizumi speaks only the truth.





	

Oikawa pressed a clean towel to his forehead, exhaling from somewhere deep.

For just a moment he was blind to the white light in the gym. Deaf to squeaking athletic shoes and murmurs. Immune to volleyball for a heartbeat. He switched off the attentive machine that would review tournaments in endless loops, hoping to study away what little he lacked in natural prowess. He put all of that Oikawa on standby and opened his eyes.

Drew it down. Vulnerability. Finally removed from the eyes of his teammates. Adjusting to their needs for the first time today. Really connecting and serving them.

It was one of two highs he craved in life.

Even old enemies had lauded his ability to set for any player, but college volleyball was a different fishbowl. The pressure of scholarship maintenance and the absence of Iwaizumi made the environment feel less like home. Much more like work. Today was markedly better. He slipped a hand into his duffel bag, lifted his phone and tapped it on.

His other high was close.

One of the voices across the gym carried to his ears.

“Oikawa’s in a better mood than usual.”

“His long distance girlfriend is coming to visit him,” another said. “He told me it’s been three months since they’ve seen each other. Prior to this, they’d basically been together every day. Childhood friends or something.”

“Do you think they fuck? Eh, fuck _ed_?”

“Obviously.”

“What was the name again?”

“I’ve heard ‘Iwa-chan.’ Maybe Iwako? Knowing him, they’re a glorified fan.”

Oikawa felt a swell behind his lips. He grinned and paced over to the team. “What are you boys talking about?” he purred, leaning over so his fluffy hair parted their shoulders and interrupted. They all laughed nervously, spare for the bravest who turned to him in earnest.

“Iwa-chan. She’s coming today, isn’t she?”

Oikawa’s eyes went saucer wide, but only for a blink. He brought a finger to his cheek.

_Iwa-Chan_ was going to love this.

Oikawa wrapped an arm around his eager teammate. “That’s right. My Iwa will be here soon. I think I’ll bring her to dinner in the dining hall so you can meet her. You’ll just have to promise not to lay a hand. She’s mine.”

“Who’d get in the way of a relationship like that?” he muttered.

“You’ll know when you see her. I’m a lucky man.”

Behind his noble exterior was a heart thudding like crazy. They wouldn’t actually know, but he would. He waved a hand. Fed them an excuse to look decent for dinner. Just to make them a little nuts. He went to the locker room to change.

~

“So, where’s your lady at?”              

“Getting dinner,” Oikawa chirped.

Truth: the composure behind his brimming smile was beginning to slip away.

Iwaizumi was on his campus. The man didn’t have much time off, even on weekends – but he’d closed every loose end and didn’t have to be back in Osaka until Monday. That meant a Friday evening, a full Saturday and a Sunday morning.

The inconvenience of it… certainly didn’t make Oikawa grind his teeth in worry. The short time… certainly didn’t make him want to grovel with the world for more. The single room three minutes from them… certainly wasn’t tempting him to leave dinner with the man in tow.

“Who’s that guy?”

Oikawa’s eyes slipped shut.

He could picture him. Stone faced and straight laced with a default, grumpy expression. His hands bent perfectly to cradle a dining tray. His body finally sporting those seven extra centimeters he’d so longed for. His hair longer but dark. Handsome and powerful and still, as far as Oikawa was concerned, his ace.

“Iwa-chan.”

The horror in their eyes was enough to add a solid twenty years to Oikawa’s lifespan.

Ever the casual, Iwaizumi cringed at the name and sat down beside them with a tray full of food. Oikawa immediately jabbed his cheek with a chopstick and further alarmed his teammates. Oikawa didn’t like to be screwed with, but a glance at Iwaizumi would tell any onlooker the same.

“You’re… um… Iwa-chan?” someone managed.

“Iwaizumi Hajime. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Oikawa swooned, tipping his head just so.

“Here I was thinking college would make you less of a little shit.”

There it was. A shock bigger than the bulge in his jeans. Oikawa’s teammates’ jaws dropped simultaneously. His grins were numerous. They heard it all. Shittykawa, Crappykawa, all of the man’s irritation. He’d so longed for this. It made everything feel like the past. Like childhood. Like everything simpler, when they weren’t far apart.

They also saw his composure. Iwaizumi dutifully explained that he was studying sports medicine to become a physical therapist. He divulged details Oikawa hadn’t bothered to share: things like how long they’d known each other. Since they were practically babies. His position on their old team. Ace. Oikawa’s ace. Iwaizumi hadn’t been the one to add that part.  

Still not the high Oikawa was waiting for.

“I’m getting a drink. I forgot,” Iwaizumi muttered. “Want anything?” he offered, patting Oikawa’s shoulder. The setter shook his head and nodded him off. Then he looked back to his teammates as the man departed the table.

“So? What do you think? Great, isn’t he?”

“I’m not into dudes,” his teammate managed, eyes still straying after Iwaizumi, “but he’s pretty gorgeous.”

“Only the best.”

“Puts up with you well. Kind of expected more of a puppy.”

“What, you don’t think he’s like a puppy?”

Oikawa filled the momentary dead air with barking sounds, but his cheery voice was cut short.

“No way do you deserve him.”

He was smirking. He was teasing. That was a tease.

Oikawa swallowed hard. Answered with a soft smirk. A sarcastic quip about how he did deserve Iwaizumi. Of _course_ he did. He was Oikawa Tooru, Aoba Johsai’s retired king. Except after it passed his lips he didn’t comprehend it again. He wasn’t sure exactly which excuse he’d given. Which burst of confidence had suited that moment?

His fingers were like an addict’s. They trembled when Iwaizumi returned.

~

“Why’d you tell them I was a chick?”

“I didn’t. They got there on their own and I couldn’t resist.”

Early winter’s darkness had settled across the sky and dimmed a private dorm room in the athletic wing. There was just enough light outside to cast everything on the inside with blue. Jackets and shoes landed everywhere, strewn about without care. Oikawa slipped his glasses off his nose and added them to a desk overwhelmed with books on volleyball.

When he returned his attention to Iwaizumi, the man was sprawled back on his bed. Still irritated. Oikawa covered a grin with his hand. As if no time had passed.

He crawled over the man’s lap with concentrated effort, a little _fwump_ breaking the silence when his knee landed on the other side of him. He leaned down. Pressed the softest of kisses to Iwaizumi’s nose and met those dark eyes. He’d known them better than anyone had. Big and bright when he was young and glistening when he cried. Narrowed during a game. Narrowed when he was irritated. Narrowed when he was driven by lust.

“You’re a little different,” Oikawa whispered.

“ _You’re_ not.”

Oikawa giggled. Spread his fingers across Iwaizumi’s chest and applied pressure. He’d grown. The tail end of puberty had bloomed late for him, but now his shoulders were wider and the muscles beneath his throat more defined. How loud his spike could be when the ball struck the ground shook Oikawa’s imagination. He could feel the subtle lines of flesh through his shirt. His fingertips were trembling despite efforts to still them. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, lay perfectly still. Spikey locks flayed out across _his_ pillow.

“How am I different?”

“You’re growing,” Oikawa whispered. “Your eyes are new.”

“New?”

“Well,” Oikawa corrected himself, glancing to the ceiling as if in thought. He rolled his hips down against the man’s and got a sweet hiss. He’d moved as casually as one would to open a door or turn on a light. “Not all new. There’s just something new there. Like maybe you’re smarter. Have you been studying hard, Iwa-chan?”

“I think so,” came an uncharacteristically soft reply.

Bracing himself with hands on the man’s chest, Oikawa pressed down again. This time Iwaizumi groaned. He reached for Oikawa’s thighs and grasped tight, but his fingers slipped down before they could act further. Deliberately. He closed his eyes.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

“Three months, and I get this,” Iwaizumi whispered, a small smile forming on his lips. “I don’t want this.”

Oikawa pouted instantly.

No.

Pouting was what he’d wanted to do. He’d wanted to pout and wait for Iwaizumi’s reassurance, but the words wracked his brain. _I_. _Don’t._ _Want_. His shoulders dipped and he looked away, loosening his hips.

“Hey.”

His lips shook a bit. He tried to find his usual smile. He’d meant to catch the tears sliding down his cheeks with his arm, but they passed his jaw and made the tiniest of sounds on Iwaizumi’s jeans.

“Tooru.”

Iwaizumi reached up and threaded his fingers through the side swept brown locks atop his lover’s head. He pulled him down closer, forcing him to look. Now Iwaizumi’s expressive eyes were gentle. Gentle in a way they almost never were.

Oikawa was not sure he was there in the room. His brain felt detached from his body. Still at the table with his teammates. Where he had his weapon against insecurity.

A weapon Iwaizumi relieved him of at the door.

“I lied. You’re growing, too,” Iwaizumi whispered. “You don’t like it, do you?”

“No,” Oikawa breathed, swallowing a cracking sound. “I never gave myself permission to be comfortable with having you so far away. I never thought it would be okay, but it’s been fine. Isn’t that awful?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“There’s no way I can end things, though,” Oikawa huffed. Hot tears were still trailing his cheeks, pattering across Iwaizumi’s shirt. He lifted one of the man’s hands and held his palm loosely, carefully, like he almost didn’t deserve to hold it. “I know we said we would test this out. Have a visit like this. Even though it was alright up until now,”

Oikawa caught his breath.

“If I leave you, you’ll cry. You’d be sorely missing my beauty and class and prowess at volleyball. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone Oikawa Tooru is your boyfriend anymore. That would just crush you, wouldn’t it, Iwa-chan?”

He braced himself. Always waited.

Oikawa was sure he would someday hear Iwaizumi change his mind, unarmed and unarmored as he was.

“Seriously,” Iwaizumi whispered. “Who would let me live down Oikawa Tooru breaking up with me?”

He dragged his hand from Oikawa’s grasp and brushed the tears away. There was this wide, toothy smile on his face. His smiles were not so rare, but they were still special. In that same instant, Oikawa smiled back. Iwaizumi’s gut reaction to a genuine Oikawa smile followed quickly. He sat up, pinned their chests close and kissed him hard. Harder.

Harder every time. Like it was a challenge.

Oikawa jittered and caught his breath. He latched on to Iwaizumi’s shirt and started pulling at it before he could communicate verbally. Here it was. The thrill, the high. Iwaizumi drew him in and spoke in a whisper against his throat.

“I’m going to show you how bad I’ve missed you, Tooru.”

“I’ve missed you more,” Oikawa managed, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of the man’s shirt.

Iwaizumi let go with just one arm. Enough to almost make it out of his shirt. When he couldn’t get it entirely off one-handed, he had to let go. Oikawa stayed close, almost too close, almost impeding the progress of stripping with his warmth. Iwaizumi let him stay, but the moment the article was free he mimicked that motion and forced him inches back. To take off his. Oikawa put his arms up. Tipped his head so it slipped off with ease.

Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around his back to keep him upright and leaned into his skin, kissing whatever he could reach. Oikawa balked for a moment, lips forming around a word – but the man met his eyes with a deep gaze.

“Don’t order me.”

Oikawa tipped his head, a moan breaking through his lips when he felt a firm hand sliding against him. Between the cheeks of his ass. He almost cursed. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he whispered, smiling a bit. “You usually tell me how to touch you. Right now I want you to feel _me_ ,” he paused, wrapping his lips around a nipple and sucking, “respond to me. You’re safe.”

Oikawa stroked against his jaw, gasping. He massaged between his shoulder blades. Glanced down. There was just the slightest contrast visible in the darkening space. Oikawa’s pale, peachy fingers against Iwaizumi’s toasty skin. He held his breath.

For a moment, just like at the threshold of practice, he switched off an attentive machine. The warrior who shoved away his shortcomings. His ugliness. His temper, wrapped up and hidden between layers of teasing. His insecurity.

He felt as human as Iwaizumi must have seen him for so many years.

“I’m safe,” he repeated.

“You’re safe with me,” Iwaizumi nodded. He curled around the slimmer man’s frame and lowered him carefully into the mattress. Held him tight. Put his weight on him, consuming pressure all around. Oikawa held back. Reveled in the feeling of his body there, exactly where it belonged just then. Iwaizumi made space with bent knees. Just enough to get his fingers to Oikawa’s zipper. Slide his pants away.

“You’re safe without me, too. More than enough for wherever you are, no matter what your head may tell you.”

Oikawa held his gaze. Spine trembling. His cock was in the man’s fingers now. Long, hard strokes. Slow. Slow enough to make him anxious. His breaths were shallow, weighted. Already leaking and slicking the way for that hand.

He felt like himself.

He felt like he could be himself while he waited for Iwaizumi’s next visit.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi spoke against his lips. “Would I love you more than anything if you weren’t?”

“You wouldn’t,” Oikawa gasped. “Hajime. Hajime.”

That name continued like a mantra. Iwaizumi could hardly bear to silence his lips with a consuming, deep kiss. He kept his fingers working, but his partner was already edging. Already toeing the line of potential orgasms. He had to slow. Soften. Oikawa didn’t complain. He felt starved. Still stable enough to savor instead of beg. He let Iwaizumi read him, show him. Show him anything he wanted.

Oikawa almost told him to stop looking for lube. Condoms. Reminded himself. Anything. With a condom it would be longer. Smoother. With lube it would be gentler. Less about the sensation of his skin and more about the feeling of their bodies. Oikawa pleaded for nothing. He didn’t order. Instead his lips were occupied with low whispers. _Hajime_. _Please. Feels good. Fuck. That feels good. Show me more._

A hand, his mouth – some part of Iwaizumi was always on Oikawa. His whole body was alight, trembling but not aching. Buzzing with tender pleasure and moving to stay as close to Iwaizumi as it could. Getting back what it had missed without his presence.

Iwaizumi stayed so close. Chest, thighs. Everything close enough to feel on his skin. Hair right at his fingertips. Oikawa was beside himself. He couldn’t still his heart or silence his cries.

He didn’t try.

Iwaizumi’s length came inside him easily, filling him without stretching him apart. Slick and wide and infinitely better than any substitute or night alone. Nothing could compare to the warmth, the breath. The sounds they made. The sound Iwaizumi made when he was inside. Oikawa didn’t let him move away. He kept him close enough for every thrust to cause their chests to slide together.

Iwaizumi started slow. Full. Oikawa didn’t lose his gaze. He savored so intensely. The look in those narrow eyes, darkening and hooded with lust. Warm and blazing with emotion, too. Then his thrusts were fast and shallow enough for them to kiss. For their lips to stay together. Oikawa couldn’t breathe but he didn’t want to. He emptied sobs and whimpers into that mouth, instead.

Oikawa didn’t fight. He came. A low, weak string of a moan escaped with it. Easy gasps. Iwaizumi stilled inside him, but only for a moment. Only enough for Oikawa to catch his breath. Then he was moving again. Over sensitive. Over stimulated. Oikawa’s voice cracked around a keen. _Oh. Fuck._  
  
He couldn’t behave.

Iwaizumi loved him this way, didn’t he?

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop until you come.” It barely sounded intelligible.

“I couldn’t,” Iwaizumi managed. “Too… good.”

In a more conscious state Oikawa might have chirped agreement. Might have jabbed at him for lasting so long after a three month lapse. All he could do was cling to Iwaizumi, fingers in his hair, hips quaking and lips endlessly urging him on. He might have come a second time. He lost track. He didn’t lose track of the way Iwaizumi’s face shifted. The way his body tightened and his voice carried out longer when he finished. The mutual collapse of their bodies into one another. Tender hands all over him.

“Tooru,” spilled out when he caught his breath.

“Hm?”

“You’re still a little shit.”

“Yours, though.” Oikawa drew Iwaizumi’s lips down into his neck and pinned him there. “Your favorite.”

Iwaizumi kissed the expanse of his throat. Over and over. Some soft, some hard, some wet, some barely there. Feeling each shift beneath him with every stroke of his lips. Cock still cradled inside quaking hips.

“My favorite,” he repeated. “Always.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I grappled a bit with whether or not these two were OOC at certain points. I think given the context of the situation and their new environment that I did okay. Fudged what I didn't have enough evidence for. Let me know what you think or if I can improve on writing either of them. 
> 
> My door is always open for prompts and requests! <3


End file.
